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My Friends the Dead
Contributed by
Scott
on
Friday, 3rd October 2003 @ 12:35:00 PM in AEST
Topic:
DarkPoetry
|
I went to a graveyard one day-alone
Too seek solitude amongst the stones
That seem-in my mind-to make good friends
For they are always there for you in the end
I strolled among my comrades gray
And they warmly beckoned me to stay
So I made a little plot my bed
And I lay down amidst the dead
I awoke within my dream at last
And found a bitter image from the past
Of friends who turned on me-and I on them
Repeating itself again and again
Of taking for granted the people who strive
To love us and make a difference in our lives
My dream then ended-I sat up straight
The sun was setting, the hour grew late
I thought what excellent friends the dead always make
You need not give to them, and they never take
Whenever you have something you want someone to hear
The dead will always lend you an undistracted ear
And then in the soft pale light of the moon
I noticed fresh cut flowers by each tomb
And notes taped to the monuments above
I realized that it is in death that we are most loved.
Copyright ©
Scott
... [
2003-10-03 12:35:00]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: My Friends the Dead
(User Rating: 1 )
by DreamWeaver on
Friday, 3rd October 2003 @ 07:19:09 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| Oh wow ... what an intriguing poem ... so different and thought provoking ... great ending ... Jan |
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Re: My Friends the Dead
(User Rating: 1 )
by Broken_Skin on
Sunday, 5th October 2003 @ 05:14:18 AM AEST
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a Message)
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i always go to the grave yard on my own when im down, the dead cant hurt me...
great poems, brought tears to my eyes |
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